
Class /^SSd~3/ 



CopightM 



22CL2. 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSm 



WILD FLOWERS OF FANCY 

A BROCHURE 



BY 

LEMUEL AUGUSTUS SMITH 

Author of "Miss Tabitha Jones," " The Generous 
Guest," etc., etc. 



Wohey Press 

PUBLISHERS 
114 
FIFTH AVENUE • 

Condon NEW YORK montreal 



THE LIBRAfty OF 

CONGRESS, 
Two Co»>iue Recsivg: 

OEC. <i 1902^ 

Cl.A8«C^^XXa No. 
COP»Y 8, 



Copyright, 1902, 

by 

THE 

Hbbey press. 



7533-37 



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foreword. 



In most men, Fancy is a prominent attribute, 
and to some men it is a source of infinite pleasure 
to allure from the mind its phantasms of beauty 
or impossible dreams of glittering ideality. In 
a great many instances it stops there ; a few men 
turn their fancy to fact, and the world calls it 
genius. 

In this modest little volume I have humbly 
placed a few of the phantasms which imagina- 
tion created within my day-dreams. A few wild 
flowers plucked by Fancy from the pied fields of 
Reverie and gathered into a garland about which 
is entwined a thread of Hope that its palpable 
imperfections will not be too severely condemned, 
and if in them there is any sweet suggestion or 
fragrance of sentiment that some one may enjoy 
these little flowers of the Fancy. 

They are wild flowers because they grew 
spontaneously, with no culture beyond that of 
tender endeavor. Although I might aspire to the 
wonderful and exquisite exotics of the genius of 



the craft, I realize that some things are impos- 
sible, and herbs or plants must grow according 
to the fertility of the soil in which they have their 
roots. 

So be it. These little verses give me joy and 
those I love. They fill a place, although small, 
and hence I trust their existence be not vain. 

If kind fortune so wills it that their sphere be 
larger than I dare hope, may it be they will not 
suffer by extension of their horizon. 

"MY GLASS IS SMALL BUT I DRINK 
FROM MY GLASS." 



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Contents. 



PACE 

Wild Flowers of Fancy 5 

Divine Philanthropy 9 

The Soul of the Rose i3 

Fraternity i? 

Mississippi 21 

Louise '. 25 

A Mother's Love 29 

Vanity 33 

Visiones Vitge 37 

Thrift 41 

The Optimist 45 

The Manufacturer 49 

Theodosia Burr Alston 53 

Transience 6i 

February 65 

Opals 69 

The Tragedy 73 

The Brevity of It 77 

A Winter's Phantasy 81 

The Mock-Bird's Song 85 

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Wild FKoiuers 

Of 

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Wild flowers of Fancp* 

j/q-j^IS not a garniture of exotics I bind, 
y J_[ A chaplet of posies rare, — 
Tis only the wild flowers I find 
In dells where they sweetly flare. 
A wreath of fanciful blooms 
That burst spontaneous to form, 
And enlighten a heartless gloom, 
Or sooth a soul's alarm. 
A bouquet of my sweets, you see? 
Mayhap, they suit not the critical Bee! 



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A SONNET, 

FAR where the sunset glows 
Against the purpling sky, 
My iruant fancy wand'ring goes, 

And my dreams in colors vie 
With its hues. What no man knows 

My human ken doth try 
To solve. My winged thoughts on high 
Seem to fly whither the wild wind blows. 

But 'tis vain in a mortal mind 

To float so on Fancy's wing ; 
To delve in problems of divine 

Contrivance. Such thoughts only bring 
The truth of human humility — 
The altruism of futility. 



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Cbe Soul 

of 
m Rose* 



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Cfte Soul or m Rose* 

PRITHEE, tell me, crimson rose, 
The secret of sweetness so rare: 
A hint thy petals disclose, 
Like a seraph whispering there. 

Wherefore thy blush, oh, timid plant, 
So modest o'er soul so sweet? 

Fain would I sing a fairy's chant 
To mate with fragrance so meet ! 

Effulgence of odor divine, 

Perfumed pulses on quiv'ring air, 

Whisper thy source to these ears of mine. 
And let me thy trembling secret share. 

Faint, elusive, and perfect charm. 
Symbol of sighs and lover's tongue, 

Dost thou startle at the bee's alarm 
As he nestles thy delicate folds among? 



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Is thy scarlet a blush of bliss, 

Thy rhythmic tremors a modest sign 

To taste the touch of ardent kiss, 
As thou and the bee intertwine? 

W Whence'er thy sweetness springs, 

I [n its rare and winsome way, 

^ 'Tis sweeter, rarer than earthly things, 

With its delicate, subtle sway. 

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fratemltp* 



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7raternitp* 

BROTHER'S heart with a brother's hand 
Is the noblest right of man — 
A mutual end with common might 
Wins the crisis of the fight. 



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mississippi* 



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Mississippi* 



I LOVE thy flower-spangled sod, 
A paradise given by thy God, 
Vvhere the jasmines sway and nod, 

Mississippi. 

I love the sun of thy indolent day, 

The land of the lilies' spray. 

The sweet place of the month of May, 

Mississippi. 



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I love thy carolling mocking-bird. 
Sweetest warbler ever heard, 
Infinite music without a word, 

Mississippi. 



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LOUISE, Louise, my own heart's ease, 
With smile so radiant and rare; 
Louise, Louise, I bend my knees 
To kneel to face so fair. 



Sweetheart, love, like stars above, 
The lights of your eyes glisten and gleam. 

Louise, dear dove, I quicken to love. 
When I win even one stray beam. 

Brown eyes, brown eyes, twin frowns for lies, 

My lips must fain speak true, 
And whisper a volume of sighs 

When my tongue dares speak to you. 



Good-bye, good-bye, and if I die, 
With the last gasp of my breath, 

To you near-by I'll tenderly cry. 
And love you e'en in death! 



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<|^ SWEETHEART loves in a passionate 
JrA way. 

And time can cool what passion fired; 
And the throb of love is gone in a day, 

Fleeting as the dreams it inspired. 

A friend may love in an altruer sense. 
With firm unswerving service of heart 

And the pulse of affection intense. 
With all that friendship can impart. 

But a mother's love in its infinite sway 
Over passion and death and brooding pain. 

With power to lull and strength to allay, — 
Who can find elsewhere its equal again? 

The soul whose ache no self can know. 
But gladly yields a meed of denial 

To save some heart the pang of a throe, 
To save some heart the sting of a trial. 

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Friends may flee and sweethearts fly, 
But a mother's heart ne'er fails her child, 

She still believes tho' fierce tongues lie. 
And turns away that her soul may smile. 

A mother's love, a mother's hope and heart, 
To feel, to worship and to know, — 

What greater, grander, nobler part 
Has God given to earth below? 



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Vanltp* 

ATCH me," to the wind cried a wisp of 
hay; 

'Ho, I have you," said the wind, "the livelong 
day!" 



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Vislotics Vltae* 



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Vislones Vltae. 



HSAT and mused in the eventide, 
And dreamed of the deeds to do. 
My fancy's scope was wild and wide, 
And my daily tasks were never through. 

I thought and planned for some future day 
When fame would give success its due. 

But as I dreamed the days sped away, — 
And fame passed with them, too ! 

So all thus idly yield to dreams. 

And plan for what never nears, 
Tho' a dream is no more than it ever seems, 

And adds naught to the passing years. 



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Cftrirt. 

WHAT can't be cured 
Must be endured," 
The philosophers say, — 
Not so; it makes the undertaking business pay, 



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Cbe Optimist 



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ClK Optimist. 

'HY do men complain of trials?" 
A lawyer was heard to ask. 
"Why, I rejoice in such venials, 
And glory in each trying task." 



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Cbe iRanuTacturer^ 



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Cbe mdtiuracturer. ^ 

a 

UPID may be blind," he said, ft 

'But if that be true, then—" U 

He added and wisely shook his head, ■ 

"He makes sights for other men." ^ 

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Cbcodosia Burr jfll$toit« 



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Cbeodosia Burr jiuton. 

The beautiful wife of Governor Alston of 
South Carolina and daughter of Aaron Burr was 
lost at sea ; her fate was not known until ^"^d. 

An old seaman, dying in one of the pauper 
establishments of an Eastern city, confessed to 
having been a member of a piratical crew who 
destroyed the ship on which she was en route to 
visit her father in his exile. It fell to his lot 
to tell her she must die. "Her queenly figure and 
beautiful face have haunted me all my life, her 
very presence stilled our vile souls. She re- 
ceived the news of her death without a tremor 
of an eye-lash, pausing for a short prayer, and 
clasping her prayer book to her breast, she 
stepped upon the fatal plank, proud and brave to 
the last. She gave me one sweet, pardoning look 
as she went down, and that is why I tell you 
this, — I cannot forget." 



I. 

THE sun sank o'er the west while hell rose 
o'er the lea, 
The black- faced night swept swift across the sea ; 
Y^ The wild waves rose and grappled with the gale 
I That whistled shrill thro' the shimmering sail! 



II. 

T Abaft, abeam, on every hand, dashed the white- 
I capped foam. 

What prayers to God, what thoughts of home 
W Blanched each cheek and turned each face aghast ! 
Hoarse moaned the gloomy thunder of the blast. 



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III. 

5 When each soul benighted had thought to know 

its doom, 

f Hark! across the waters a lone cannon's boom! 
a While flashed through the storm a red hectic 
11 flame ; 

^ And none dared to give his soul's riot name. 

IV. 

The shuddering ship staggered to the mist- 
bleared blaze, 

On through the seething breakers 'neath the dark, 
weird haze. 

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And Hope once more waked where it erstwhile 

slept ; 
While the fog-paled flames crackled and leapt. 
♦ **♦** 

V. 
Oh, what Hell is this that flames in the night? 
And what Hell-born fiends exultant in their 

might ? 
That yell like weird music to the shatter of the 

wreck ? 
And spring like demons on the gore-drenched 

deck? 

VI. 
Oh, God! 'Twas this black-flag throng that 

flashed the flames, 
By them Thou'rt forgot, for them Hell's to 

blame ! 
Pity ! They know not pity, or aught save lust for 

gain! 
Nursed amid wreckage and the human form's 

pain. 

vn. 

But lo ! a stillness drops on the waters. 

Down the deck spurns one of Earth's fairest 

daughters ; 

___ 



With mien majestie she quells the demon's 

clangor, 
And parries with a look a bold fiend's hanger. 

s Not a smile, not a frown, sweeps o'er her soul- 

I smiting face. 

a Before her like waves before wind the fiends give 
place. 

I Not daring to know if she be woman or wraith, 
Q While on she steps in haughty blood's most pride- 
1^ like faith. 

IX. 

Black as the fiends' hearts so are her vestments 

white, 
^ And she seems like a Heaven-born spectre of 

the night. 

T Wordless they crouch 'neath the scofn of her 
a eyes, 

II Dark in their depths as the storm-swirled skies. 
C 
P X. 

Cowering and trembling with horror-born fear, 
While the storm sweeps on in its mad path drear. 
The dying cease to moan, the living to breathe, 
While the storm's heart quakes in the waters 
beneath. 



XI. 

Unflinching and unstopping- she ascends the dark 

plank : 
To the wet waves lapping and the hawser's clank ; 
Firmly steps on it and walks to the end, — 
What spell has bound those Hell-born men? 
****** 

XII. 
O'er the flood suspended she stands like a queen, 
As lightning makes lurid the uncanny scene. 
The spell is broken ! and more wild are the foes 
Recovered so tensely from their soul's awed 
throes ! 

XIII. 
One, two, three, four, rose o'er the wild lapping 

deep. 
And this strange woman sank to her last final 

sleep — 
While the gale shuddered in weird, queer fury. 
As it marked for the fiends their soul's augury. 



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Cran$!etice. 

FLAMING across the midnight skies, 
A meteor shot its brilHant spray; 
Tossed through this life of sighs, 
Genius comes to pass away. 

As darts sped from bows unseen 

To cleave an unseen mark, 
Are hurled through existence mean, 

Lives lived in mundane dark. 

Swelling chords in cadence sweet, 

Stir the soul to vanish quite, 
Existence draws its net complete 

To free its prey in Stygian night. 

One thing is certain, this life flies ; 

A tremor, a flutter, 't is past ! 
The flower once blown forever dies. 

We live but to die at last. 



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februarp* 

I. 

|H, month of promise and of witchery, 
Month of budding things and of mystery ! 
As hope springs eternal in the human breast. 
E'en from chilled and sordid beings, and the rest ; 
So dost thou, too, bear in thy heart 
That bloom of hope, of life the renewing part. 

11. 

After the frosts and the wind-driven days, 
'Tis sweet to know the nascent amaze 
Thou dost arouse in youth, aye, and waning life. 
Like the love of a woman in the heat of strife. 
Abloom and aglow thou art the enchantress of 

vagrance, 
Seductive amid thy censer's fragrance. 



III. 

A spirit of prophecy fills the air. 

Bloom and song abound everywhere. 

'Tis vague, intangible as a dream; 

The soft murmurs of the purling stream, 

The rousing of the new year from his winter' 

sleep. 
For hath he not a tryst with Spring to keep? 



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Opal* 

I HAVE heard this tale of the olden days, 
Of the time when elves and sprites and 
fays, 
With laughter and gleeful mirth. 
On the meadow danced 'neath the moon's soft 

light. 
And their joyous songs awoke the sleeping night ; 
A tale of the opal's birth. 



In a spot remote from the haunts of men. 
On the grassy slope of a lonely glen, 

A bevy of peris danced. 
And a limpid brook with its liquid sound. 
As it joined the chorus of those around. 

The melody much enhanced. 



In a gloomy cavern not far away. 

An ill-humored imp heard the music gay, 



And the laughter vexed him sore : 
So the fairy queen and her retinue 
He imprisoned each in a drop of dew, 

By means of his magic lore. 

And each sparkling drop of gaoling dew 
Thus became an opal of varied hue — 

For such is the tale they tell. 
The whimsy mood of each sprightly fay 
Glimmers out the changing ray 

That shines from his crystal cell. 



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Cbe Cragedp. 



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Cbe Crasedp* 

N a shaded rustic seat 

_ Placed cool beneath the trees C 

I sit with a maiden sweet, I) 

Not heeding time, 'tho' it flees. ^ 

c 

Lights glance from strands of gold f 

That glitter on my shoulder; 3 

Her voice quivers with love untold ^ 

As she begs me to enfold her. ^ 



Her lips are pursed for a kiss. 
On her cheeks glows a vivid flush 

As she seeks vainly for this bliss, 
But I still her pleadings hush ! 

Her dear brown eyes beseech ; 

The soft-curled lashes scarce retain 
The tears that welleth in each. 

So great doth seem her pain. 
___ 



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I coldly from me shove her, 
As frigid as an icy attic !- 

For I play the angry lover 
In an amateur dramatic ! 



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Cbe Brevltp of in 



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CDe BKDitp of lt< 



FROM dark to dark the human, atom flits, 
A moment born, then silence quits 
Uf life and love, the earthly store 
Once cherished on the hither shore. 

A breath, one glance, and stillness then, — 
The weird quiet that startles men 
Who think and ponder the causes o'er. 
Life once spent, spent f orevermore ! 

The turmoil, the strife we find on earth; 
The little things that gather around the hearth ; 
Why should we know them, if so brief 
Must be our pause in the most-time grief? 

Why live at all? Why made in this guise. 
If to lose our form and flit in yonder wise ? 
Oh life, best loved when least understood, 
Thou art no fancy but perpetual mood ! 



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n winter's PDantasp. 



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n Winter's Pbantasp. 

WHAT boots the time of year 
So love and life be near ? 
The sun scampering in wintry route — 
Yet the heart is firm and true, 
So life must speed with little rue. 
The leaves encrimsoned desert the tree 
Like gorgeous drops of blood in immensity; 
The grey clouds swirl aloft like cohorts 
Shattered; space-mad the Wind exhorts 
In whistling shrieks the chilling soul of Day 
To up and flee and vanish away — 
But what matters ? Love still glows. 
E'en thro' all the gleaming snows. 
And Life's warm throb still endures. 
Still pervades the chill to which it inures. 
Be earnest in the heat of thy love, O friend,-— 
Life is still worth living to the end I 







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Che iRock-Blra's sons* 



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Cbe mock^Bira's Song. 

H MOCK-BIRD without my window sat 
upon a bough and sang, 
The thrilliant notes hke tuneful moods enrap- 
tured rang. 
TrilHng through the trelHs to the chambers of 

my heart, 
Orchestral symphonies arranged by nature's 
faultless art. 



Swelling chords of music sweet that reach the 

heights of joy; 
Rippling rhapsodies that somehow fail to cloy. 
Dizzy flights of eery tunes that tremble in their 

thrill, 
Like the gurgling lap of a silver tumbling rill. 

Mournful notes that catch the soul and keep it 
pensive still, 

Like the hollow echo of weird chants in mauso- 
leums chill. 



Sudden the song seeks some gayer garnished 

whim to find, 
And quickly lifts the throbbing pain off the 

piteous mind. 

w 

1 Then like a lilt of lolling laughter leaps along 

I the breeze, 

4 And lazily links its song with slowness like the 

sigh of summer trees: 
^ While tremulos and staccatos swell the soaring 

song, 

1^ Until the fancy multiplies the lyrist to a choral 
C throng I 

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DEC 6 1902 



